Life as measured in days
Forty-seven days. I left Atlanta 47 days ago for good and moved to Los Angeles to be closer to Jason full time and for good. My house went on the market a few days later. A short sale. It was listed for $60,000 less than what I currently owe. If you ask me, that is still $20,000 too much.
Fifty-nine days. I have 59 more days to wait for an offer on that house. After 90 days, I (think) I become eligible for a deed in lieu of foreclosure. I have a house sitter of sorts living there to keep thieves at bay and my homeowner’s insurance active. The deal is that she has to keep the house in show-able condition until it sells or the bank takes it back.
Twenty-seven days. Almost one month ago, I started a job with Opera Software as a Web Opener. It’s a technology position with a sales bent. I get to play with code and debug web sites, and then persuade developers that they should support Opera. You should because Opera is awesome.
Twelve days. That’s the length of my orientation in Oslo, Norway where Opera is headquartered. I braved some wicked cold weather, learned more about the inner workings of the company, and managed not to fall once. That’s an accomplishment. Some of the city’s sidewalks were covered in an inch or more of ice.
Ninety-five days. That’s now much time there is between now and my last day as an unmarried woman. We still have so much to do: design and send invitations, book our hotel room, plan a honeymoon, arrange for our cupcakes, make sure our attendants all have dresses, find a DJ, secure a dance floor, oh and find someone to officiate.
Every day I try to remember that this too shall pass. The last month and a half has been a special kind of hectic with no signs of letting up. One day at a time though, right?